


It's All Looking Up Now

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Curtashi Week, I think Hunk might be onto him, M/M, Post Series, curtashi - Freeform, shirtis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: Curtis discovers first hand how easy it is for Shiro to get lost in his work. When Shiro misses dinner one evening because he’s behind on work, Curtis is more than happy to bring the dinner to him.





	It's All Looking Up Now

**Author's Note:**

> I'm running a little behind due to work, but here is Day #2 of Curtashi Week of Firsts - First Date. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

_He’s impossible. And I don’t just mean his knack for forgetting meals or waiting until the last minute to complete his duties. Though I will admit there’s something so endearing about that disastrous side of him, something soft. He can also do the impossible. Every time I think of the days we spent out in space, fighting and praying and desperate to survive, what he’s managed to do should have been impossible. Words can’t describe it well enough._

_One side of the impossibility of Takashi Shirogane makes him magical, unstoppable. The other side makes him so easy to love._

/

“Come in.”

There’s a wince in Shiro’s features when Curtis pokes his head into the office. He’s not surprised to find Shiro still behind the desk, notes scattered everywhere and datapad in front of him. In spite of the mess, he still offers Curtis a friendly, albeit embarrassed smile.

“Almost done?” Curtis asks. “Pretty slim pickings in the mess hall by now, but we could probably go grab something off-base.” He slips fully into the office and comes up to the desk. Catching sight of a neatly typed agenda at the top of the pile, he quirks a brow. “Sir, please tell me you’re not working on tomorrow’s speech _now_.”

Shiro leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as if he’s offended, complete with furrowed brow and stern reprimand on his face. It might almost be effective if it wasn’t a clear indication Curtis is dead on. The expression melts away in seconds, and he sags. “Okay, I won’t tell you. But it does mean I might need a raincheck on dinner tonight.”

They hadn’t planned anything formal. They were supposed to be meeting up in the mess hall because Hunk and his crew had visited the Garrison that week. Nothing fancy at all, but they’d agreed on a time, and Shiro had missed it by about two hours working on a speech that probably should have been drafted several days ago. Curtis would have come to check on him sooner, but he hadn’t spent weeks in space with Shiro without picking up on some inevitable truths about his Captain.

“You’re not almost done.” It’s not a question, but it’s also not chastising. “ _Shiro_.” He’s fond with a dash of exasperation.

Curtis almost apologizes when guilt flickers into Shiro’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, Curtis.”

Smiling, he shakes his head. An idea hits him, and he thinks he knows just how to make it better and still spend some time. “It’s fine, we’ll adjust course.” Without another word, he turns and leaves Shiro with his unfinished speech, heading to the commissary.

/

Curtis has learned about each of the Paladins in incremental ways that piece together who they are outside of their color-coordinating armor. Though he hasn’t had much opportunity to really get to know them the way Shiro does, it’s been impossible not to have them a part of his life. All of the Paladins are a regular presence in the Garrison and the Atlas. What Curtis has learned about the Yellow Paladin is that he’s most at home in the kitchen, and even more so when sharing his talents with others. It shows in the huge smile on Hunk’s face when Curtis slips into the kitchen and prep area to investigate the leftover situation. He’s directing some of his sous chefs in the cleanup and packing of the supplies, and Curtis hangs back until there’s a moment to get his attention.

“Hey!” Hunk greets. “Curtis, right?”

“Yes. It’s good to see you again, Hunk.” The kitchen still smells divine and his stomach rumbles. If he’s hungry, Shiro must certainly be starving — and ignoring it.

“Likewise. Have you seen Shiro, by the way?”

“Recently, as a matter of fact.” Something must have shown on Curtis’s face, because Hunk leans in a little, scrutinizing.

“Has he eaten?” Hunk asks suspiciously.

That gets a laugh out of Curtis. “No, and that’s why I’m here. Don’t suppose you have any leftovers I could take him? I know your cooking is quite the sought-after commodity around here.”

Hunk waves off the compliment with an enthusiastic “pshaw!” that betrays how much the sentiment really means to him. “I half expected Shiro to be front and center, so I wondered if he’d forgotten again.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Curtis watches as Hunk takes no other cues, strolling merrily over to one of the warming chambers and pulling out a tray with three covered plates on it. “I saved it for him, and I was gonna go hunting him down once we cleaned up.”

Pleased, Curtis smiles and holds out his hands. “I’d be happy to deliver it to him for you.”

Another of those scrutinizing looks, and then a smile that looks ever-so-slightly devious. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind.”

One brow goes up. “Of course not.”

“Great.” Hunk pulls out the tray and plunks it into Curtis’s waiting hands. “Make sure you put it right on top of whatever pile of papers he’s distracted by this time and don’t let him move it til he’s cleaned his plate.”

“Yes, sir,” Curtis laughs. “Thanks, Hunk.”

“Looking after Shiro is a full-time job sometimes.”

As Curtis leaves to return to Shiro’s office, he knows he’s pleased to take on the effort.

/

“Special delivery,” Curtis announces from Shiro’s doorway.

The smell of Hunk’s cooking wafts in after him, and Shiro’s surprised expression is priceless and absolutely worth this slight change in plans. He doesn’t waste another moment waiting for Shiro to say anything, moving to do exactly as he’d been asked and setting the tray right on top of the paper pile, meeting agenda and all.

“Service with a smile,” is all Shiro manages to say, looking at the tray like it’s something he shouldn’t have.

Curtis removes the lids for him. “Dig in while it’s warm. Hunk was saving these for you.”

“He didn’t have to. And you didn’t have to go either.”

“I’m sure I speak for him when I say it was no trouble. At the very least, I wanted to make sure you ate.”

“You’re having some, and that’s an order,” Shiro says, like he expects Curtis to insist he’ll have something else.

He’s not wrong.

“As you wish?” Curtis laughs moments before they start picking things off the dishes to try them. “So why are you working on your speech at the last minute?”

Shiro flashes him another sheepish smile. Curtis likes the softness of it.

“Speeches aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh?” Curtis tilts his head. “I thought you did them all the time during your piloting career.”

“Yeah, but it was different. Most of the time, I was giving speeches to kids. And let me tell you, it’s a lot more encouraging than a room full of top brass and galactic ambassadors. Maybe it’s because they don’t get to play the video game after.”

Curtis grins. “Maybe you should change that.” He remembers the Orbit Axiom X simulator, most notably because he’d been terrible at it. Piloting had certainly not been his strong suit. It makes sense to him though that Shiro would enjoy himself more by encouraging future generations of space exploration pilots to follow in his footsteps. Even in the peak of battle, it hadn’t escaped Curtis’s notice that Shiro had an intense love of the stars, and often acted right at home with them.

Shiro actually looks considering. “I’ll make a note to bring it up at the next leadership meeting.” He winks.

“You do that. And if you want me to look over your speech to help you fill in the gaps and get you out of the office quicker, I’m happy to.”

Shiro smiles gratefully, but only after a moment of guilty embarrassment. Curtis assumes his desire to get it over with greater outweighs his pride in taking the help. He doesn’t mind. What Shiro can do with a ship, Curtis knows he can do with words.

“So, how many languages do you speak?”

“Six, with a peppering of alien distress codes and Galra curses,” Curtis says. “ _Including Japanese, Commander Shirogane Takashi_.” He switches over to Japanese long enough for that, and he can’t help a flutter of delight in his ribs when Shiro’s eyes widen and his cheeks tinge pink.

“ _You’re good_ ,” Shiro responds in kind, then switches back. “I’ll admit, I haven’t spoken fluently since…well, since my mom passed. No one’s said my name in the right order for years.” His eyes are so bright, Curtis loses himself in them for a moment.

“You can practice on me anytime,” Curtis tells him. “No judgment on conjugation misses, I promise.”

“That’s awfully generous.”

By now, Shiro looks a lot more relaxed than he had when Curtis had first looked in on him. In fact, Curtis is glad it worked out this way; there’s something really nice about being in this space with Shiro, even with a pile of paperwork under their meal. It’s already so much more intimate than being out in the open mess hall. _Like a date_ , he’s shocked to realize, and now the heat gets into his cheeks too. At least, he hopes, his is a little less obvious.

“I can be.”

“Well, you did bring me dinner after I flaked out on our—” The same realization seems to hit Shiro then, and Curtis has the good timing to meet his eyes over their shared tray. Curtis’s heart speeds up a little bit. “This is a date, isn’t it?” He laughs nervously, running a hand through his star-touched hair.

“We certainly don’t have to call it one,” Curtis says, trying not to sound too hopeful. What’s started out as a string of days and weeks being close in combat and in friendship feels like it could be more, but Curtis doesn’t want to lose what they have if Shiro’s not ready for something like that.

“I…I don’t mind,” Shiro says, with a lilt of surprise as if he hadn’t expected to like the idea as much as he does.

Curtis is relieved. “Neither do I,” he dares to admit.

“Then I should make it up to you,” Shiro declares. “After the conference tomorrow, we’ll go. Off base, somewhere the reports can’t find me.”

“I know of a good Cantonese place in New City. They just finished rebuilding and they reopened last week.”

Shiro’s eyes rolled back in a pleased groan. “I love Cantonese.” After a moment. “I love food.”

Curtis notices that Shiro is often the cause of his record-skip moments, and watching that flash of pure, unadulterated joy come out of him is equally enjoyable for Curtis as well. “I’ll make reservations. And that gives me full right to drag you away from anything, barring the fate of the universe, of course.”

“You have my word.”

When they finish the meal, Curtis makes good on his offer, hovering comfortably behind Shiro’s chair while he finishes the speech. He’s remarkably easy to talk to, open to the advice, but also cracking some of the stupidest jokes Curtis has ever heard wherever he sees an opportunity. They finish and close up the office to head back to their personal quarters, discussing the logistics of including the Orbit Axiom X at the next coalition conference as if it were a thing they actually intend to do. Curtis finds himself disappointed at having to bid Shiro goodnight at his door, but it’s already well past two in the morning, and the Captain needs sleep before his big speech.

Curtis doesn’t think he’ll be sleeping much at all that night.


End file.
